It was the height of summer, and the heat pressed down heavily. Yet inside the backroom of the siheyuan, a soft coolness lingered in the air.

Seated inside, Luo Chen took out the fifty-year-old Yellow Pear Wine from his storage pouch, the gift Yuan Xiaoyue’s grandfather had given him on his birthday.

He set out a few plates of celestial beans, dried beef, and crispy fried snacks.

"Cheers!"

"Mm!"

Clink!

The wine cups clinked softly, releasing a faint sound.

The two men sat across from each other at a wooden table and drank deeply.

When they set down their cups, one carried the vigor of midsummer, while the other seemed trapped in the chill of winter.

"Time flies so quickly," Qin Liangchen sighed. "I can still picture you swinging that great mace and chasing me down, as if it happened yesterday. Yet when I think about it, that was already last year."

Luo Chen sighed as he poured Qin Liangchen another cup of wine.

Qin Liangchen said nothing, only lifting the cup and drinking in silence.

Luo Chen did not mind. He poured again and began to speak as though to himself. "Back then, I was just a rogue cultivator scraping by at the bottom of Dahe Market. To escape my enemies, I forced myself to rent a place in the inner city, even though the rent nearly broke me.

"Refining pills was not the hardest part. Selling them was. You never knew what excuse the next customer would use to haggle, so you had to stay sharp and ready for trouble.

"On the Debate Platform, I truly admired you all. Even though some fell in battle, the victors basked in glory, cheered by thousands. It stirred my heart and made me yearn for that same feeling.

"Unfortunately, when I finally stepped onto the Debate Platform...